KIRKUS REVIEW

One murder leads to another and DI Kennedy goes trans-Atlantic in his 10th appearance.

At the outset, the only thing murderous in Christy Kennedy’s life is the agonizing pain in his lower back. And the only way to deal with that, he decides, is to phone world-class masseuse Sharenna Chada and plead for what he knows he hasn’t a prayer of receiving: a house call. But he’s wrong. She arrives and administers a treatment, followed by a treatment of a different kind, both of which prove wonderfully restorative. As a result, when he views the corpse of prominent businessman Patrick Mylan, he’s sharp enough to spot what others missed—a homicide disguised as an accident—and then a bit later, to suss out whodunit. Unfortunately, by this time, the culprit has flown to the U.S. with Kennedy in lukewarm pursuit. In a small California town, he encounters a fellow police officer in desperate need of help. Grief-stricken and frustrated by her inability to solve the murder of her young husband, Grace Scott turns to Kennedy, who turns up trumps. So, while closing in on one killer, Kennedy cleverly closes down another, scoring back-to-back successes, then heading back to England; his own back, at least for the time being, agreeably quiescent.

Charles (The Beautiful Sound of Silence, 2008, etc.) serves up his usual pleasant concoction at his usual leisurely pace.

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